


Logical

by onereader



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Don’t copy to another site, Draco Malfoy in leather trousers, Draco Malfoy is a Tease, M/M, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereader/pseuds/onereader
Summary: Inspired bythisgorgeous fanart of Dracoin leather trousers- enjoy ❤️I hope you like it Gesa!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 198





	Logical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PotterArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotterArt/gifts).



Harry knew, logically, that Malfoy had been doing undercover work as part of the co-operative investigation the DMLE and Unspeakables had been conducting since August. 

He knew, logically, that undercover work at wizarding London’s most infamous club would include some kind of disguise.

He even knew, logically, that with the usual clientele of said club any disguise would be a far cry from the crisp and conservative uniform of the Unspeakables. The high collar, silver buttons, and black wool he had grown accustomed to seeing Malfoy in.

What he hadn’t prepared himself for was the _reality_ of it all. 

His team had set up a rota for the late night debriefings for the two Unspeakables they had on the inside. They were two months into the operation and this was his first time recieving Malfoy for handover.

Harry had been standing, waiting impatiently, in the heavily warded interview room put aside just for this operation. Malfoy was late. Bad enough during office hours, annoying as fuck at half past midnight. He checked his watch again—twenty-five to fucking one—when the wobbling crack of Portkey arrival boomed into the small space.

And there stood the reality of it. 

Draco sodding Malfoy, wrapped from top to toe in leather. Black, buttersoft, utterly touchable looking leather. Leather that sat dangerously low on lean, muscled hips. Leather that draped across bare skin, yielding tantalising glimpses of pink nipples and a flushed chest.

Every hot word of anger and sarcasm that had been building on the tip of Harry’s tongue evaporated at the sight. Instead, electric lust tingled up his spine and tightened in his gut. 

Malfoy rolled his neck, reached up to rub at the muscles there, his eyes closed in what was probably his first moment off-guard in the last twenty-four hours. And Harry restrained himself from backing him into the nearest wall and just rutting against him by the barest of threads. 

He looked though. Looked his fill with greedy abandon, utterly inappropriate and utterly unstoppable. Even the sight of Malfoy’s scars, silvery-white traces of Harry’s own violence, didn’t stop the rising tide of _want_. Didn’t halt the sudden realisation that now he’d seen, now he _knew_ what lay beneath those finely tailored robes, he wouldn’t ever be able to forget it.

A pensieve floated at his right hand, ready for Malfoy’s carefully organised memories to be deposited. But even as Malfoy’s eyes opened, smoky-grey and sharp, even as a smirk curled at his mouth, knowing and dark, Harry didn’t break the silence to commence their official business. Couldn’t.

“ _Now_ , Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was as low and drawling as ever, even with a hint of interest in his tone. “Honestly, your timing could use work, though I’ll admit it’s _fascinating_ that this was all it took.” He gestured lazily at himself.

Malfoy moved forward, closing the distance between them, until Harry could feel the warmth of him. He could smell the spice of him, bergamot and sage, the scent of body-warmed leather. He could see the bloom of pupils widening in arousal, the flex of muscles, the glisten of wetness left when Malfoy licked his bottom lip, bit it.

Logic had never been his strong suit, anyway.


End file.
